The Pie House
by FunkyWashingMachine
Summary: Keith and Pidge explore a haunted house [mild gore warning]


"There's no part of you that feels like this is a bad idea?"

"Only if we get caught," said Pidge. "But we're not gonna get caught, no one ever comes down this way at night."

"It just doesn't feel right," said Keith.

"Well, you don't have to come with me. But I'm still going."

"Yeah, I'm not letting you go in there alone."

"Are you saying you believe in ghosts?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then what are you so afraid of?" Pidge scoffed. "I know you're not afraid of trespassing."

"Just drop it, okay?"

Pidge shined the flashlight on the old broken house.

"Once we prove this place isn't haunted, everyone'll thank us. The town can sell the property, folks will drive on this street at night again, and maybe people will stop thinking that we suck."

"How do you _know_ it isn't haunted?"

"You said you didn't believe in ghosts!"

"I didn't say that."

"Sometimes I don't know why I keep you around," Pidge said.

"Because everyone else thinks we suck."

Pidge punched Keith on the shoulder.

"Yeah, I love you too, you big jerk."

She opened the gate and went up the path. Keith followed behind.

"Door's locked," she said after trying it. "Gimme a boost through the window."

"Careful of the glass."

"There's not that much."

Keith got her through the window.

"You coming, too?" she said.

"Just gimme a sec here."

"What?" Pidge snapped off one of the spears of broken glass. "You afraid the house can smell blood, or just not up to date on your tetanus shot?"

Keith climbed in through the window.

"I don't think you should break the glass," he said.

"For any reason other than upsetting the ghosts?"

Keith didn't respond.

Pidge pointed the flashlight all around the room.

"Look at all the dust. Nobody's been here for a long time."

"Nobody alive."

"Why don't you just admit it that you think there's a ghost in here?"

"Will that make you happy, or will it just make you think I suck like everyone else does?"

"Keith, I couldn't possibly think you suck any more than anyone else does."

"Well…"

A sound came from upstairs.

"Jeez, don't freak out," Pidge said. "That was the wind."

"You jumped, too."

"Yeah, it just startled me."

Pidge shined the flashlight up the stairs. The strands of the cobwebs glowed in the trail.

"We're going upstairs, aren't we?" said Keith.

"Well, if you want to do that first, sure."

"Maybe not."

"All right then, Captain Kangaroo, which way?"

Keith took the flashlight and trained it around.

"The kitchen."

"You seem awful sure that's the kitchen," Pidge said.

He went toward the room, and Pidge went with him.

Their feet made wet sounds on the tiles.

"Look, Keith," Pidge said. "There's nothing in here."

"There's a meat cleaver."

"Yeah, that's a thing people have in their houses. _My_ family has one."

"Stuck in the counter like that?"

"No, but there's a whole bunch of explanations for that. Might have fallen during a storm, or when one of the cabinets broke."

"What about…" Keith moved the light. Then he turned it off.

"Keith, don't _fucking_ do that."

"We should get out of here."

"Turn the fucking light back on."

"You _don't_ want to see that."

"Well, we're not going anywhere with the light off."

Keith reached through the dark and grabbed her shoulder. "Close your eyes so I can turn it on."

"Just do it."

He turned on the flashlight.

"It's gone."

"Yeah, I can tell," said Pidge.

"It was on the table."

"The table's empty."

"It is _now."_

"What did you see on it?"

"You wouldn't believe me."

"Probably not."

"Can we just go?" Keith said.

"We have a lot more house to cover first. Where to next?"

"Back the way we came," Keith said. "I'm not crossing this floor."

"All it is is sticky."

"Sticky with WHAT?"

"Look, I don't know everything, Keith. But sticky floors are a thing that happen, too."

"Usually you can _see_ why they're sticky."

"Yeah, but not always." Pidge snapped a photo with her phone. "Come on, let's check out another room."

"I think the living room's pretty safe," Keith said.

"Yeah, cause it's full of living things and not ghosts."

They made their way to the living room.

"Looks pretty not haunted," Pidge said.

"Yeah, I know," said Keith.

"They sure had some nice things," said Pidge.

"They're dead now."

"It's an old house."

"I know."

"So what room _doesn't_ feel safe?" Pidge said, taking another picture. "So I can prove to you first that there's no ghosts."

Keith paused.

"The dining room."

"All right, Captain Kangaroo, take us there."

Keith took Pidge's hand and led them to another room.

Something dripped from the ceiling as they headed there. Keith tensed.

"It's rain, Keith, or shitty plumbing."

"We're under the room."

"Stop being creepy, let's just get to the dining room."

The dining room was connected to the door in the kitchen that they hadn't gone through.

"Would you look at that," Pidge said. "The table's set and everything."

"You don't just think that's because someone left it that way?"

"No, I do. It's just weird that they did."

Keith pointed the flashlight farther down.

"Do you see that?"

"What?"

"On the table."

Pidge got closer to it.

"Huh. It's a pie."

"There's steam coming off it."

"Yeah, that IS weird." Pidge took the flashlight and pointed it at the floor. "And there's no footprints in the dust or anything."

When she brought the light back to the table, the pie was gone from the tin.

"Keith. Did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"It's gone."

Keith took back the flashlight and pointed it straight into the dish.

"It's not gone. It's open."

The pie dish was full of something red.

"Jesus fuck!" Pidge yelped. "That isn't funny!"

"No, it's NOT," Keith snarled. "I've been telling you since we got here that there's ghosts!"

"You haven't been saying that at all!"

"Well, there _are!"_

"How the fuck do you know, Keith? How do you know that ghosts are real?"

"Because I can _feel_ them," Keith practically shouted. "I've felt them ever since I was a little kid! I just don't bother them, and they don't bother ME!"

"No need to fucking _shout_," Pidge stole back the flashlight.

"You started it," Keith crossed his arms.

"Well now I'm finishing it."

"Can we _please_ go now?" Keith said.

"Well, NOW I wanna see if there really IS a ghost in here."

"Pidge. This place is _angry._ Something terrible happened here, and it was evil enough to poison the whole house. It's angry and crazy and there's no way to know when it's gonna lash out."

Pidge folded her arms.

"If this is all a practical joke, I'm gonna be so mad."

"Pidge. You know I suck at jokes."

"Just like everything else."

"Right," Keith sighed.

The sound came again from upstairs.

"Well," Pidge said. "Maybe you're not gonna go check it out, but I am."

The sound happened again, louder and longer and angrier.

"No, Pidge, you're not."

"Make me!"

"Fine!"

Keith grabbed her by the shirt and ran for the nearest window. He kicked out the glass and jumped through it with Pidge in his arms.

They hit the ground hard. Pidge groaned and picked herself up.

"Keith, I swear to god…"

The house made another terrible sound as several of the upper beams caved in.

The dust came choking through the windows. Keith and Pidge stayed there on the ground, cold in the settling air.

"Keith," Pidge finally said. "You know you don't really suck, right?"

"Thanks," said Keith.

"Well," Pidge sighed, "guess I better delete those pictures so we don't get arrested or anything."

She swept across a couple of pictures, then stopped.

"Keith. Is this what you saw in the kitchen?"

Keith looked at the phone.

"Yeah. But it was still beating."

"Uhh, _fuck."_

"Yeah, it was pretty gross."

"Welp," Pidge put the phone away. "I'm not about to get any sleep tonight. You wanna go to some late-night café with me?"

"All right," Keith said. "But only if they don't serve pie."


End file.
